


A Small Escape

by 401



Series: Breaking the Ice [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Log Cabin, M/M, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Steve Rogers Feels, Vacation, forest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 10:47:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4518963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/401/pseuds/401
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Bucky go away together for the first time since Bucky came back to SHIELD. Distance from the world lets memories flood back. After all, sometimes you need to step back to see the whole picture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Break

Steve stood on the elevator, hands clasped in front of his as floor after floor rocketed past the glass windows of the pod like a countdown. Meetings with fury were always quite tense, especially considering the current climate and the short notice at which this one was organized. He had left Bucky downstairs in his cell (Steve hated that word) and come up as soon as Jarvis had given him the message. No matter how many times he told himself it would not be bad news, his hands were still clammy with sweat and his heartbeat still sounded in his ears like a metronome.

He stepped out on Fury’s floor, a whole floor to himself, and walked over to the door. His plan was to compose himself before knocking but the retina scanning system gave him no such opportunity, shining a searching blue beam over his face and piping up in a robotic female voice that unsettled Rogers.

“Captain Steven Rogers, entrance authorized,” The voice stated before the door hissed and slid open.

Fury was sitting at his desk in the large office. It was the size of Steve’s apartment, easily. The director was at his desk, he looked relaxed and amiable. Steve let his shoulders relax.

“Take a seat, Captain,” Fury gestured to the chair opposite him.

Steve sat down. On the desk were two sets of keys, house keys it looked like, but they looked unused. They still had lustre and there were no visible fingerprints on them. They both had shield keyrings. Fury tapped the keys with his middle and index fingers.

“These,” he explained, “Are for a log cabin in the George Washington National forest. The cabin is owned by SHEILD.”  


Steve supressed a sigh. He didn’t want another mission, not out of fatigue or idleness, but purely for the fact that the prospect of leaving Bucky for however long and risking him forgetting all of the progress they had made together, made Steve’s stomach turn.

“Who would target a log cabin sir?” Rogers asked, “Especially one owned by SHIELD?”

Fury frowned for a few seconds before bursting into earnest laughter. Steve sat in his place confused as hell waiting for him to stop.

“It’s not an assignment, Captain,” Fury chuckled, “It’s a god-damned vacation.”  


Steve raised his eyebrows. This seemed very out of place. Fury had sent The Avengers on holidays as a group, but never singled out a single agent to go by themselves.

“Thank you, sir I’m grateful,” Steve shook Fury’s hand, “But why?”

Fury gave a dismissive ‘no problem’ gesture before sliding the keys across the table to Steve.

“I reckoned you needed a break, it’s been a rough month.”

Steve took both the keys, putting them in his pockets. It had been a rough month, very rough. The strain of the situation was beginning to get to Steve, even if he would not admit it to anyone.

Steve went to leave before pausing and wheeling back around.

“Why are there two, sir?” Steve asked, “The keys?”

Fury had already started writing into a file.

“Oh, you’re taking Sergeant Barnes with you,” Fury said nonchalantly, not looking up from what he was doing.

Steve nodded, aghast and newly excited.

He left the office with another ‘thank you’. When he was out in the corridor, he let the grin that he had been holding back show on his face before jogging through the expansive corridors of the SHIELD headquarter to get the news back to Bucky.

 


	2. Get Ready

Bucky was still asleep, on his front with his face buried in the pillows. His metal arm was dangling off the edge of the bed so his knuckles brushed the floor. Steve could not see his face. It was totally obscured by a shock of dark hair. Steve watched the soldier’s back rising and falling gently with each breath.

“Buck?” Steve whispered.

Bucky moved his head minutely but did not wake up. Steve walked a bit closer.

“Bucky, wake up,” Steve said a little louder.

Bucky’s head snapped up clumsily, his hair falling forward and sticking to his lips. He shook it out of the way with unbalanced, sleep dulled movements and brushed it behind his ears. The creases from the pillowcase had made a rosy imprint on his cheek and forehead. Steve felt a little guilty for waking him up from what was probably the deepest sleep Bucky had experienced for 70 years.

“Mmhm, what’s the deal?” Bucky slurred, rubbing his eyes.

Steve smiled at the sight. It was a side of Bucky he had not seen since he had lost him.

“Fury’s given me some keys, for a wooden lodge in the forest for a week,” Steve announced, “And he said I could take you with me.”

Bucky looked down, considering the issue. A week alone with Steve sounded wonderful, too wonderful even. The thought of enjoying himself with no obligations or tasks left him on territory he did not understand and scared him to the core. But Steve. It would be a week alone with the only person he trusted and remembered. Someone he loved.

“When do we leave?” Bucky asked, still cautious and unsure.

“When you’re dressed,” Steve grinned.

Bucky swung his legs over the edge of the bed and rubbed his hands over his face with a deep breath.

“You’re nervous,” Steve sat down next to Bucky, “Talk to me, punk.”

Bucky rested his head on Steve’s shoulder and Steve took his hand, the flesh one and held it in both of his, stroking back and forth with his thumb.

“I don’t know how to feel,” Bucky said quietly, “don’t get me wrong, I want to go, I just know it’s gonna’ bring back a lot of memories and that never plays out too well for me, ya’ know?”

Steve nodded, squeezing Bucky’s hand. When Bucky remembered things, even the good memories that came to him occasionally, he was plunged into the imprinted cycle he had been conditioned into at HYDRA. Back then, if he showed signs of recollection of his previous life, they would wipe him and start again. Bucky had described the pain of being wiped to Steve once. They had laid there, and Bucky had told him what it felt like, the fact that he could see every major memory just before it was obliterated, feeling grief for each one like the person in the memory was dying before his eyes. You tried to cling to it but it burned like holding your breath for too long. Coupled with the volts of electricity pulsing though his skull, it was unbearable. Steve had waited to leave the room before tears overtook him.

“I’ll be there with you,” Steve reassured, “Anything that happens, I’m there and you know it.”  


Bucky sighed, burying his face into Steve’s neck and loosening as the hot skin and the subtle smell of Steve’s cologne absorbed his senses for a moment. Steve shivered lightly at the cool touch of Bucky’s nose and the feel of his breath ghosting over his ear. He nudged the soldiers chin up and pressed their lips together. Bucky instinctively jerked away in shock, but returned almost as quickly. Steve ran his hands lightly over Bucky’s biceps, his mind still battling the contrast between the textures of his left and right, and how much Bucky was allowing him to do. The titanium under his left hand was cool, a faint whirring could be felt underneath the thick scales of metal. His right side was very different. Warm, dense muscle sheathed in soft skin that Steve could feel reacting to his touch, the hairs on Bucky’s forearm standing on end from the stimulation. Bucky leant forward, half climbing onto Steve’s lap and straddling his hips, cupping his face in both hands. The cool metal felt good on Steve’s cheek, flaming and coloured with arousal. Steve forgot all about the vacation that they were supposed to be leaving for, too enamoured with the new passion Bucky was showing towards physical contact to let go now. Sliding his hands down Bucky’s spine, he felt the planes of muscle tense under the thin cotton undershirt he was wearing. Steve let his hands dip under the waistband of Bucky’s sweatpants and pulled his hips forward. The friction made Bucky ache for more, but the need confused him just as much as it spurred him on. He ducked his head, disconnecting the kiss with a small gasp.

“You okay,” Steve panted, moving his lips to Bucky’s neck, sucking mildly against his collarbone and feeing the skin flush.

“I just…” Bucky stammered, struck dumb with unfamiliar levels of arousal, “Too fast, Steve.”

Steve pulled his lips away swiftly and sunk his head in slight embarrassment at his eagerness.

“Sorry,” Steve rambled, straightening his hair, “We should probably get ready, hey?”

Bucky gulped, willing his cheeks to return to their normal hue.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”


	3. The Willow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try and plough out chapters as fast as I can

“Belt up,” Steve ordered teasingly as he and Bucky climbed into the all-terrain Jeep that SHIELD had lent them.

“How remote are we talking, Steve?” Bucky asked, noting the heavy mud tread of the vehicle’s tires.

Steve chuckled starting up the engine as Bucky sat down. It was in the mountains, a valley at least, and surrounded my forest. Sam said that he had flown over it and it was pretty dense, but beautiful all the same.

“Off the beaten tracks, definitely,” Steve smiled pulling out and speeding off.

Bucky relaxed against the seats of the Jeep. He was getting his first proper look of 2015. There were billboards and lights in colours you couldn’t get in the forties, the cars were bigger too, shinier and again, in a bigger range of colours. People wore different things, things that would have been considered underwear before the war. One woman had hair in a shocking shade of blue and another was wearing a skirt so short that Bucky wondered half how she had not yet frozen to death, and half how the hell it stayed up.

Slowly, the dense city dissipated and high rise apartments and buildings made of glass turned to pine trees that dwarfed the road they were coursing down, winding its smooth bitumen path through denser and denser wilderness.

“You alright?” Steve whispered, noticing Bucky’s silence and putting his hand on his thigh.

Bucky nodded, his forehead catching a little on the window where it was resting. He really was this time, content in the blur of juxtaposition between old and new racing past him. He could feel sleep dragging down on him and he let it win happily. The sound of the motor and the rocking of Steve taking sharper and sharper corners as they climbed into the forest was enough to keep him awake enough not to dream, which was good. He didn’t want to have an episode whilst Steve was driving.

The GPS told them that they were ‘five minutes from their chosen destination’. He sound jarred Bucky into consciousness. When he opened his eyes, it was dusk and the trees had turned from dark green to deep blue.

“You decided to join the world of the living,” Steve kidded, “Good choice.”

Bucky stretched, hearing his shoulder make a satisfying pop as it loosened. He looked at his watch. It was 8:45.

“I slept for four hours?” Bucky coughed a laugh of surprise.

Steve nodded in confirmation and slowing the car down slightly. There was a break in the tree line with a letter box that had the words ‘The Willow’ engraved into it. A dirt slope branched from it that led to what was visible of a dark wood cabin.

“Here we are,” Steve pulled into the damp drive and parked before unlocking his own door and walking round to do Bucky’s.

Bucky stepped out. The front porch was lit with two lamps, the glow from which cast an orange hue on the rich brown wood, and illuminated the flight of a couple of moths that were flapping jauntily around the front door. Around the cabin was nothing but the road they had travelled up, void of any other cars, and dense forest, pitch black and pine-scented. It was almost silent, bar the sounds of owls and Steve’s feet against the wet earth.

“Pretty nice, huh?” Bucky said, linking his fingers into Steve’s free hand, the other taken up by the minimal luggage they had taken, due to short notice and Bucky’s general lack of belongings.

“Pretty nice,” Steve agreed before walking them both up the steps to the front of the cabin and unlocking the door with one of the sets of keys Fury had given them.

The inside of The Willow was similar to the outside, a lot of wood. It was cosily lit and there were a couple of Navajo rugs on the ground. There was fireplace with a small pile of firewood in a cast iron bucket next to it and a couch with a matching arm chair. I was warm and smelt like wood smoke and vanilla.

“We’ve got this place all to ourselves,” Steve said with mischief painted on his face.

He pulled Bucky towards him by the waist. Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck and closed his eyes as the Captain rocked him slowly from foot to foot in the tight hug. His heart sped up, he could feel his pulse in his throat as the affection heated him from head to toe. This wasn’t anxiety. It was happiness, the most unsullied happiness Bucky had felt for years. It felt like he was thawing out, not painfully and slowly, like the aftermath of the cryofreeze, but gently. Steve, rubbed his hands up and down Bucky’s back and Bucky gripped his broad shoulders, not planning to let go. The heat felt like it was creeping its way through every cell in his body, melting the tension as it went, sinking through him like water filling the cracks. He knew this feeling, he had felt it before.

“I love you, Stevie,” Bucky mumbled in a voice hoarse with emotion and muffled by Steve’s jacket.

Steve pulled away momentarily. The words rung in his ears and for a brief, illogical moment, he doubted that he had really heard it.

“I love you, Steve,” Bucky repeated.

Steve pressed forward, crushing their mouths together, and his hands on either side of Bucky’s neck, brushing his cheeks with his thumbs. Bucky could feel Steve’s eyelashes brushing against him. They were damp with tears.

“I love you too,” Steve whispered into the kiss, “I never stopped.”  


Bucky smiled, letting himself be swamped by heat, and the knowledge that, even if his pain was tough to conquer, this happiness would be twice as difficult to shift.


	4. Best Guy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT ALERT

Bucky turned off the overhead light off in the bedroom, leaving the gentler burn of the bedside lamp. He felt a relief in the pressure behind his eyes; he was not used to bright light yet, but he was getting there. When he had arrived at SHIELD, it had been four days before anyone turning _any_ lights on in his cell would not end in a meltdown of thrown chairs and punched walls. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and slumped onto the bed, lying on his back and staring at the liquescent orange shapes being cast by the shadows in the dim-lit room. A familiar shadow, although warped and elongated by skewed angles, entered Bucky’s vision.

“How’s my best guy?” Steve asked, walking into the room with a towel wrapped low on his hips. His hair looked more brown than blond with moisture and clung around the nape of his neck like wet feathers.

Bucky followed the path of a droplet of water with his eyes as it rolled down Steve’s chest, diverting its route whenever it hit the texture of muscle.

“I’m swell,” Bucky smiled truthfully.

Steve crossed the room and gave Bucky his hand, hoisting him up onto his feet and into his arms. Bucky rested his head against Steve’s slightly damp neck and breathed in the smell of heat and shampoo. He kissed the sensitive skin almost instinctively, an open-mouthed kiss that made Steve shudder and arch his hips against Bucky’s. The friction caused the loose-slung towel around Steve’s waist to drop to the floor. Steve went to catch it but Bucky stopped his hands in their tracks. He ran his hands over the dimples at the base of Steve’s spine, breathing a laugh as Steve’s breath hitched at the cold of the metal one. Bucky could feel the prominence of Steve’s length hardening against his hip, so he pulled Steve closer cupping his ass as he dusted more kisses over his chest, thrilling at the reaction of the naked captain.

“God, Buck,” Steve sighed, gripping the soldier’s hips painfully hard, pressing into his to heighten the stimulation, “God, I’ve missed this.”

Bucky smiled, he had too, and as Steve’s movements became more urgent, he could feel his own jeans getting tighter.

He shuffled them down to the floor and followed with his underpants. Steve’s eyes grazed over his naked body avidly. Steve let his hands drop, gripping Bucky’s ass with his left hand and rubbing along the length of his half-hard shaft with the palm of the other.

Bucky blew out a shaky breath, rocking onto his tiptoes to heighten the pressure. Steve took the cue and gripped Bucky’s cock properly, jerking his hand up and down with more speed until the metal fingers of his partner’s hand started to bruise his shoulder blade. He could not have cared less.

“I fucking want you,” Bucky’s voice sounded almost pained with aching arousal, “God, I want you Stevie.”

Steve made an imprecise moan of agreement before clumsily nudging Bucky backwards onto the bed, their feet bumping in heated discoordination.

Steve wasted no time in ducking his head, kissing and biting along the pale skin of Bucky’s toned stomach, stopping only to suck a line of hickeys across his hipbone, exciting a keening growl from the pinned soldier.

Steve gripped Bucky’s shaft in one hand before kissing up from base to tip, lingering on the sensitive tip with open mouthed suction. Bucky panted Steve’s name with kiss-reddened, parted lips.

Steve took Bucky into his mouth, going slower than he knew Bucky would have wanted him to, just to feel him thrust into his mouth impatiently and curl his fingers through Steve’s damp hair, encouraging movement. Steve slid his lips off of Bucky’s shaft with a wet pop that made Bucky’s toes tense.

“Tell me,” Steve said with his eyes closed, kissing along Bucky’s length again, feeling it throb against his lips, “Tell me what you want me to do.”

Bucky only moaned in response. He wanted anything and everything by this point. He wanted to make up for the seventy years he had lost, all in one night but he was also aware of how bitterly nervous he was about that level of pleasure. What did that feel like, to be full of someone, overtaken in a way that _doesn’t_ actually hurt for once? To be completely dominated, but not scarred or beaten. He had no idea, he needed to find out, and he was live with arousal sparking over his skin with electricity.

“Tell me what you want, Buck,” Steve repeated still teasing with kisses.

Bucky grabbed Steve’s biceps and pulled him so the Captain was on top of him. Steve slid his hands along the backs of Bucky’s thighs, urging his legs to wrap around his hips before lifting the soldier clean off the bed and pushing his against the wall.

Bucky grunted, slamming their lips together and holding onto Steve with his arms around his neck and his legs tight around his hips.

“Do it,” Bucky almost begged, “Please, I fucking need you.”  


Steve smiled before fumbling through the pockets of his jacket, hanging on the bedpost next to them. He pulled out a bottle of travel sized lube and slicked the first three fingers of his right hand awkwardly, holding the bottle in his teeth so he did not drop Bucky.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” Steve instructed before pressing one finger to Bucky’s entrance.

He rubbed in circles over the hot, puckered skin before pushing in gently, past the tight muscle. Bucky’s breath hitched and shuddered. Steve moved his lips to the soft patch under Bucky’s ear and kissed, letting his teeth graze his earlobe. He hooked his finger forward against a patch of nerves Bucky has forgotten existed. The soldier groaned, scraping his fingertips over Steve’s shoulders and trying to press Steve deeper with his hips. Steve pressed in another finger, and switched stationary hooking to slow, firm and perfectly angled thrusts, deep enough that his knuckles knocked against Bucky’s ass. Bucky dropped his head back against the wall, his chest rising at the rhythm of Steve’s hand. Steve’s kisses were deliberate and deep, marking Bucky’s neck with a prickled patchwork of bruises.

“Steve I _need_ you,” Bucky near enough begged.

Steve slid out his fingers and Bucky bristled against the emptiness. Steve slicked his length in the viscous, clear fluid before pressing his tip against Bucky’s hole.

“Now are you sure?” Steve’s voice was full of mischief and teasing.

Bucky nodded eagerly and Steve pushed in slowly. He closed his eyes, gasping at the tightness around his shaft. He thrusted slowly, holding Bucky’s ass in place. As he sped up, he could hear Bucky’s back thumping against the wall irregularly, timed with the moans that let Steve know he was hitting the right spot. Steve needed it so much more, almost instantly. His fingers were tightening on Bucky’s hips. Sweat rose on his skin and his cheeks flamed. He let go of one of Bucky’s thighs and used the liberated hand to grip Bucky’s long hair hard. The soldier whispered something like ‘God, yes’ at the rough treatment.

“Steve…” Bucky’s voice was hoarse and desperate, “Stevie I…”

Bucky came hot and white across their chests. His thighs trembled under Steve’s hands, and his titanium fingers carded through Steve’s hair roughly.

Steve thrusted him through the climax, before submitting to orgasm himself, nearly dropping Bucky as blinding pleasure that blurred his vision and made him make a sound he didn’t know he could make, coursed through him.

“My God, Bucky I’ve wanted that for so long,” Steve mumbled loosely into the soldier’s shoulder. Bucky hummed shakily in response, hugging tighter.

Steve held Bucky, pinned against the wall, limbs tangled for few minutes, and for that few minutes, they could have been anywhere. Back in their Brooklyn apartment a lifetime ago, or there, in the log cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Either way was fine, because Steve had his best guy back.

 

 


	5. Taboo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oral sex alert

_The buzzing of a saw conquered Bucky’s unconsciousness, dunking him headlong into a nauseous soup of colour and light, the smell of surgical wash and rubber. As his vision adjusted, the shapes of people started to become more distinct. There were about five men, all hovering around Bucky’s left side, prodding with clammy latex-sheathed fingers. There was a dull ache radiating up his shoulder that he could not shift. It came in waves that blurred his vision and made his ears ring. He was in a hospital of some sort. He wondered through the discomfort if the nurses had told Steve that he had made it. One of the men, doctors, nodded at another man on Bucky’s right. He turned on a machine that whirred formidably._

_Then there was the burn._

_The pitch of the saw changed as it hit his already mutilated arm. He screamed, hard enough that his throat stung. The burning pain swelled taking over his torso. The lack of response to his screaming vexed and terrified him. This was no hospital._

_Bucky willed himself to pass out, begged his body to give up but the torture was persistent. The sawing sound hit a dull crunch that made vomit rise in Bucky’s throat._

_Then the sawing stopped. The throbbing continued. Bucky’s vision greyed at the edges._

_“Prepare the prosthesis,” An unfamiliar voice ordered, German maybe._

_Bucky didn’t find out before he lapsed back into darkness._

 

Bucky gasped awake, aware of the sweat glossing the back of his neck. He swallowed hard and rubbed his eyes roughly, sitting up and scanning the room.

No doctors, no saws, no pain. Just the warm colours and smells of the log cabin. And Steve.

Bucky slumped back against the pillows, his naked legs tangling in the sheets. Steve was on his front, arms either side of his head like a free-faller. The light coming through the window was peppered with leafy shadows, casting a dappled pattern on Steve’s shoulders. The sheets were draped low about his waist and Bucky could trace every line and muscle through the light cotton. He toyed his fingers down the slope of Steve’s back, watching the fine, sun-silvered hair stand on end at the ghosting touch, and drawing shapes around the fingerprint bruises on his shoulder blades from the night before. Bucky smiled at the memory, kissing Steve’s head and letting the heat pull him even further away from the dream that had woken him.

“That’s the best way I’ve been woken up since 1944,” Steve mumbled sleepily into the pillow.

Bucky startled slightly at the noise.

“Sorry,” he ducked his eyes, removing his hand from Steve’s back.

Steve rolled onto his stomach, pulling Bucky on top of him. Bucky’s hair flopped forward and Steve scrunched his nose as the loose tresses tickled his face.

“You feeling alright?” Steve asked, eyes closed and relaxed, “After yesterday.”

Bucky gave his response with a kiss, stroking both hands over Steve’s cheeks and down the sides of his neck.

“Perfect,” Steve sighed, running his hands up Bucky’s thighs and resting them on his hips, pulling him tighter against him.

“Steve…” Bucky exhaled, feeling himself harden at the pressure.

“Mm?” Steve hummed in reply, a devilish smile hitting his mouth as he squeezed either side of Bucky’s ass, rubbing over the firm muscle.

“You’re making me… _fuck_ ,” Bucky hissed breathily as Steve rubbed his thumb over the tip of Bucky’s cock, half covered by the bedsheets around Steve’s hips.

“That’s the plan,” Steve teased, eyes still closed, “And watch your mouth.”

Bucky rolled his eyes before pushing Steve’s hand away gently and pulling the Captain’s legs up around his waist. He kissed Steve again, gasping at the slick of tongue against tongue and pinning Steve’s arms above his head.

“You’re _very_ good at that,” Steve groaned as Bucky nipped the skin on his collarbone.

Bucky smiled into the warm, cologne-scented space and continued his path, letting his brain slide into autopilot, going wherever his lips told him to go. He ran his tongue in a hot circle around Steve’s nipple, feeling the flesh stiffen under his tongue. Steve minced his fingers through Bucky’s hair and dropped his head back against the pillows.

Bucky’s lips had hit Steve’s hipbones.

“You still want me to watch my mouth?” Bucky glanced up at Steve with a look that nearly made him come there and then.

“I’ll take care of it,” Steve pressed Bucky closer to where he needed him to be.

The soldier took Steve’s shaft in his flesh hand gently. He took a deep breath, buying himself thinking time by rubbing up and down agonisingly slowly. Steve’s grip on Bucky’s metal shoulder tightened.

A bead of precum rolled down Bucky’s knuckles as Steve arched his hips shakily. The soldier dropped his mouth to Steve’s shaft and took him as deeply as he could, hearing Steve make a soft sound of relief. Bucky pressed his lips up and down, near enough hitting Steve’s base with every deep stroke of his mouth. The heat of Bucky’s tongue coupled with the tightness of his throat was quickly pulling Steve apart.

Bucky was surprised at how naturally this was coming back to him. They had done this in the forties, but it had been different. More rushed, and only at the points of desperation when the need for each other’s bodies had overridden the taboo of the act. This was desperate too, but in a way that held no guilt. The desperation was out of utter arousal and pleasure, not deprivation.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Steve’s voice was climbing, “Right there, Buck.”

Bucky circled his tongue over the head of Steve’s shaft before taking him deep one last time before his mouth filled with heat.

Steve let out a hoarse, keening moan, arching his hips and tightening his knuckles in Bucky’s hair.

“That should be illegal,” Steve panted, coming down with trembling thighs.

“It used to be,” Bucky shrugged.

 

 


End file.
